


I Wanna Be Somebody

by happybeans



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Comedy, Gen, Irondad, Magic, Memory Loss, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark POV, peter parker pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybeans/pseuds/happybeans
Summary: With the team barely a team after everything that's happened over the years, Tony thinks things can't get any worse.Then Peter loses his memories of ever being a hero during a battle with a wizard.Yup. Turns out things can always get worse.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	I Wanna Be Somebody

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stars_aligning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_aligning/gifts).



> Hello! This story is a gift-fic for AO3 user Clover_Rose for the Friendly Neighborhood Fic Exchange! The prompt was "amnesia," which I had never written before. Hope I did it well!

In the end, Tony guesses he really should have seen it coming. And it’s not even because he’s Tony Stark and literally nothing in his life can ever go right.

No, he means literally. He should have seen it coming.

Let’s rewind back a couple of years.

The comm crackled—god, Tony hated that noise—as Clint came over the line, a teasing tone in his voice when he said, “My end’s clear. Cap, how’s your end coming along?”

“It’s coming,” Cap said plainly, though Tony could hear the humor in his voice. 

Ah, simpler times. Back when the team was—well—a team, and their missions were more like hanging out than work.

Case in point: “On your left,” Natasha said as she ran past, throwing a smirk over her shoulder.

Tony grinned and raced to catch up—not difficult in the suit, though unnecessary as they needed to branch off at the end anyway. Natasha went right and Tony went left. Really, that’s where this mess all began.

Because had Natasha been there instead, Tony’s certain the man he comes across would have been professionally laid out in ten-seconds flat. 

Tony, on the other hand…

“‘Mojo the Magnificent?’” Tony repeated, a mix of incredulity and mocking in his tone. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Mojo, who wore a rumpled dress shirt and pants, trench coat, and translucent black cape, sputtered, eventually saying, “I—it—it’s a work in progress, okay?”

Tony snorted then, back when life was a joke and he always had his way, in the end.

He let “Mojo the Magnificent” have it for a little while longer, bantering back and forth with the man and ignoring Cap’s questions from the comm.

“Enough!” Mojo shouted eventually, face red and billowing his cape with one hand. “Mojo the Magnificent will not take this mockery! I’ll show you…”

“Show me what?” Tony goaded. “Don’t you know who I am?”

Mojo said nothing, though his jaw clenched, Jarvis happily informed Tony.

Tony continued, “And you know who I have on my side.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Mojo immediately denied.

“Uh, conspiracy? Breaking and entering? Assault, if you’re counted in with what your buddies did?”

As Tony went on, Mojo began to fidget, eyes searching the room.

“You can’t prove anything,” he said, though his tone betrayed his words. “I…” He trailed off, looking behind him. Suddenly, he straightened. “You might be right,” he said, and Tony’s smirk dimmed at the change in tone.

Mojo continued, “It’s over for me, huh?” And as he took a step back, hand reaching for his—

Tony’s hand raised up, glowing with energy. “Ey,” he said, “Keep your—”

Mojo pulled something from the inside of his trench coat, and, in an instant, he was gone. 

Tony stared at the place he had been for a moment. He asked Jarvis to unmute his comm. “My end’s clear,” he reported. 

And it was.

You know. For a few years.

“It would be nice to have some back-up over here!”

“I’m sorry, Boss—”

“Stop, stop.” Tony waves his hand. Then he remembers why he needs that hand and promptly whips it back up, firing a blast at the figure, which disappears before it’s even left Tony’s palm. “I get it; the cavalry’s coming.”

Not FRIDAY’s fault good ol’ Mojo the Mysterious or whatever decided to attack a whopping two-minute’s flight from the tower.

Hell, if anything, it’s Tony’s fault for forgetting to replace his Queens bots after Spider-Man’s last adventure a week or two back. He’ll get to it tomorrow, for sure. Or the next day. Or the—

“Mr. Stark!” Tony groans. “Mr. Stark, I’m here!”

“Not that back-up,” Tony hisses before ordering FRIDAY to start a comm link between them. “Spider-Man,” he greets cheerfully. Then, deadpan, “Shouldn’t you be—” He coughs, considering that their  _ friend _ could overhear this conversation— “Somewhere?”

“Oh, are we using code?” Peter asks, too smart for his own good. Or maybe the perfect amount for his own good, in this case. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Ed-Nay is covering for me.”

Orrrr maybe not.

“Whatever you say,” Tony says, though he knows they’ll be talking about this later. Both the being here and the frankly embarrassing attempt at code. 

“Just lay low,” Tony advises. “Not sure what we’re up against.”

“Aye, aye,” Peter says, with a—again, objectively bad—salute. Then he takes Tony’s advice literally, swinging close to the ground to urge away a group of curious bystanders. 

“Alright,” Tony says, muting his end of the link and relegating himself to a game of high-stakes hide-n-seek. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

Time can really change a person. It seems Mojo’s spent his time levelling up, seemingly perfecting his little disappearing act; even FRIDAY can’t quite find him until the instant he appears. Probably some magical teleportation bullshit. 

Tony hates magic.

He unmutes himself, telling Peter to watch his back, literally. 

A good thing, since Mojo slips his focus from Tony (who he was happy to monologue to earlier, thank you) to Spider-Man in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, things become much more clear. 

Ah, fuck.

“Don’t worry, I got this!” Peter says, optimistic as always. He flips a web at Mojo the next time he appears, and for a second, Tony thinks it might actually work out. 

Then Mojo appears behind Peter, and, before Peter can fully spin around, he shoots a blast of orange energy that hits its mark. 

Tony swears as Peter yelps.

And then Peter goes down.

“Now you’ll see, Stark,” Mojo says, flashing back and forth as Tony fires shots. “Nobody makes a fool of Mojo the Great.”

Then he disappears again, and this time, he doesn’t come back. 

Tony flies over, falling into a run as he nears the kid, who’s lying on the ground. 

Peter starts to sit up, and the eye-lenses widen as he sees Tony.

“Holy shit?” he says.

Tony laughs, a hard push of air through his mouth that’s more relief than humor. “Woah,” he says, letting his guard down, “watch the—”

“Holy shit!” Peter repeats. He’s still on the ground, propped up only by his hands, but he starts pushing up further.

Tony reaches out when Peter’s left arm gives out underneath him, but the kid just switches to a one-armed rise, even as Tony waves for him to lay back down.

“Kid. Kid, christ! Would you quit—”

“You’re Tony Stark,” the kid breathes.

Tony freezes. 

Voice low and hard, Tony says, “You’re not funny.”

Peter blinks at him, and now that he’s entirely upright, legs criss-crossed beneath him, he uses his good arm to rub at his eyes and forehead. 

Face pink, the kid says again, “Holy shit.” Then he jolts. “Oh my god. I just swore in front of Tony Stark.”

Chest tight, heart clenching, Tony says, “Kid, cut the bit. It’s not funny.” 

“The Tony Stark,” the kid repeats, voice awed and pinkened face steadily growing to a firetruck red. “I can’t believe it…”

Then, because nothing in Tony’s life can ever go right, ever, the kid drops back down, dead to the world.

————————

Tony side-eyes the kid the instant he starts to stir. 

Peter’s eyes and nose scrunch as he wakes. Then he cracks his eyes open, and they widen when they land on Tony.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” Tony greets warily. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Peter answers automatically. “Thank you, sir.”

Tony clenches his jaw at the “sir,” but he doesn’t mention it. 

Before Tony can say anything, Peter continues, sitting up in his seat and not-so covertly wiping away a trail of drool on his cheek, “Sorry to be rude, but… What happened? Why am I here?”

Tony looks away as he considers. “Why don’t you tell me how much you remember.”

“Of today?” Peter scratches his head, eyes drifting out the window then back to Tony. “Not much. I was studying for an English test?”

Very helpful.

“What about me,” Tony prompts. “Do you remember me?”

“Well, of course I know who you are. You’re Tony Stark.”

Tony nods through his concern. “But you don’t remember me,” he finishes. 

“Sir… With all due respect… I think you have the wrong person.”

“Nope. Peter Parker.”

Peter’s eyes widen.

“Kid, I’m not trying to worry you, but you should know: you’re experiencing some memory loss.”

The kid takes it in quickly, nodding along. “Right, okay,” he says. “So, you’re saying I know you? Holy shit. How much am I forgetting?”

“Not sure. Right now, we’re heading upstate to the compound. I have a doctor who can check you out there.”

“I’m sorry, ‘the compound?’”

Nodding, Tony does his best to push his concern away. He smiles, hoping to put Peter at ease. “Yup, brand new. Well, it was brand new a few months ago. Now it’s just regular new.”

Peter nods seriously at the explanation, and the two sink into silence for a couple of minutes, Tony messaging updates to Cho while Peter stares out the window. 

“Hey, so, uh…” he hedges, “What am I wearing?”

It takes all of Tony’s dignity not to face-palm at his own idiocy. Ah, how to play this…

He throws a hand around Peter’s shoulders, using his other hand to ruffle his hair as he says, “Congrats, kid: you’re a superhero.”

Peter blinks at him, looking back and forth between his Spider-Man hands and Tony.

Finally, he laughs. “Say ‘sike’ about it,” he says.

“No kidding,” Tony responds with a smirk.

“No way,” Peter breathes, and when Tony pulls away to look, he sees the stunned, pleased look on Peter’s face. “I actually did it.”

And Tony’s heart  _ hurts. _

“Your memory…” Tony says then restarts: “You’re back when—right after…”

The smile falls away. Peter looks down but nods. “Yeah,” he says. “So, you know, then? About my uncle?”

“Ben Parker.” Tony offers a small smile which Peter turns his head to see. “I never met him, but I heard he was a great man.”

“The best,” Peter says, a sad sort of smile on his face. “Before he died, he told me something. He said that—”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” they repeat together. 

Peter laughs, a small whisper of a thing. “I told you, huh?”

“You did.” Tony thinks for a moment, remembering his own parents’ passing and what he could have used back then. He squeezes a hand on Peter’s shoulder and asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about my grief with Tony Stark?” Peter summarizes with a chuckle. “I think that’s a bit much to ask. Do you want to hear a story, though?”

Tony berates himself for overstepping then berates himself for berating himself. Then he answers honestly, “I’d love to.”

“Okay.” Peter grins. “Tell me if I’ve told this one before.”

“Will do,” Tony lies. 

“So, it all started the day of his fifty-seventh birthday…”

Tony has heard this one before, but he smiles fondly as Peter regales the story. He even manages to pull more details than the first time around, asking some probing questions and derailing the story-telling so that Peter ends up telling two entirely different stories by the time he finally finishes the first, saying:

“Long story short: the bubbles were everywhere.  _ Everywhere.” _

Whistling, Tony says, “See, back in my day, we didn’t have that problem.”

“What? Dishwashers existed when you were younger,” Peter points out.

“No, I mean we had people to do that for us.”

Peter snorts at the punchline, shaking his head. Nowadays, Peter would throw an eye-roll in there, too, maybe a groan; seems amnesiac-Peter is still on the wrong side of polite.

Tony shoves his shoulder, giving him a smile. He leans forward to look out the windshield, seeing the compound just starting to come into view in the distance. 

“Hey, looks like we’re about here,” he points out. “Ain’t that right, Hap?”

He doesn’t have to see it to know Happy rolls his eyes. “Just a couple more minutes,” he confirms. “How you doing back there, Peter?”

“Good, thank you, sir,” Peter responds formally. 

Tony barely holds in his snort when he catches Happy’s smug smirk in the rear-view mirror. 

“’Sir,’” he repeats, “I think I could get used to that.”

Peter looks embarrassed as he admits, “I don’t remember you, to be honest. Do I know you?”

“Yeah, kid,” Happy says with more patience than Tony’s used to seeing from him. “I’m kind of like your boss—”

Tony bursts into laughter, ruining what probably could have been a really funny joke, in the long-run. “Don’t fuck with the kid,” he says, “he’s been through enough today.”

Peter laughs along, even though he isn’t in the loop.

Happy turns his head back for a moment to smile at Peter. “Yeah, I’m just messing with you,” he says, turning back to the front. “I chauffeur you around and occasionally save the day when you forget your homework in the backseat.”

With a hum, Peter says, “Sounds like you’re a good friend. It’s good to meet you.”

“I have my moments,” Happy says simply.

They roll into the garage, and Peter becomes visibly excited in his seat. “What are we gonna do first?” he asks. His eyes widen. “Will I get to meet—”

Waving a hand, Tony says, “No and no. You, mister, have a trip to the medbay.”

He’s expecting a long, drawn-out groan. Instead, Peter lets out a breath, saying, “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Tony blinks at the unexpected acceptance. “Normally you’d make this a lot more difficult,” he says. “But hell, I won’t complain.”

He ushers Peter out of the car before the kid can change his mind, sending Happy off to probably slack around and shooting a final text to Cho to let her know they’ve arrived. 

Tony’s been holding it together pretty well, so far. But it’s time to figure out what the hell is going on.

“So, here’s the thing,” Cho explains about an hour later, waving a hand over the brain scans they’ve taken, “all of this? It looks normal. I’m not seeing any cause for concern.”

Tony lets out a breath. 

“That’s a good thing,” Cho reminds him. 

“Right, right,” Tony says. “I know. Just—do you think it could have healed in the time it took to get here?”

“Could it have? Definitely. We’ve seen first-hand what his healing factor can do.”

“Healing factor?” Peter asks once Tony’s gone back to where he left Peter to sip on an apple juice.

“First of all, eavesdropping,” Tony complains. “Second, pretend you don’t know about that. Maybe you’d be more careful if you weren’t bailed out all the time.”

“Do I get hurt a lot?”

“Probably more than I know of. So, we have some good news and some bad news.”

“Sounds interesting. Can I hear the good news?”

“Sure. Your scans look good.”

“That’s good,” Peter says, nodding. “What’s the bad news?”

“The bad news,” Tony says, flopping down beside Peter on the couch, “is that it’s most likely a magic-thing.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment. “Magic’s not real,” he says finally.

“Says the kid who’s half-spider.”

Peter opens his mouth to respond, but Tony cuts him off, saying, “I know, I always thought so, too. Science, right? It’s good stuff. But, and don’t tell Strange this, it is, admittedly, a thing. You know, probably.”

With a shrug, Peter says, “Good enough odds for me,” gaining a laugh from Tony. “Who’s ‘Strange?’”

Sighing, Tony says, “My arch-nemesis.” He catches Peter’s serious look and corrects himself. “That’s a joke. He’s a wizard—sorry, sorcerer—who I know. He’s our best shot at figuring this thing out.”

“That’s cool. How do we talk to him?”

“We don’t.” Peter tilts his head. “We pester him until he inevitably gives in and helps us.”

“Don’t you think there’s an easier way to…”

“Nope. Pestering it is.” He pulls a phone out of his pocket and tosses it to Peter who, although clearly surprised by the action, catches it instinctively. “You, on the other hand, get to give your aunt a call and explain all of this to her.”

“Uhhh, don’t you want to do it? I mean, you’re the adult,” Peter says, though it’s clearly a thinly-veiled attempt to get out of trouble. The kid knows he’s already in for it. Tony can barely hold in his laugh.

“Nope,” Tony says. “You get to do it, since I’ll be so busy with our resident ‘sorcerer supreme.’” He adds appropriate air-quotes around the title.

Peter sighs but sticks his thumb on the reader, unlocking the phone with visible surprise and dialing his aunt’s number. 

Tony promptly high-tails it out of there to avoid her wrath, in perhaps one of his more genius moves.

————————

So, here’s the thing: nothing in Peter’s life can ever be normal. This is especially so after the spider-bite, which for Peter happened literal weeks ago but for everybody else apparently happened an entire  _ year  _ ago. Okay. That’s fine.

He can work with this. 

But first…

“May, I swear, I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

Jeez. Future him must get in trouble like this a lot. May sounds really suspicious. 

“No, really.” Peter laughs a little, lowering his voice. “I mean, this is all… _ really cool.” _

He hears May chuckle from the other line. “Yeah,” she says, “I suppose it would be. Where are you, hun? I mean mentally.”

Peter nods even though he knows she can’t see it. “I’m a few weeks after…” He trails off, not sure which major life event to mention.

May fills in the blanks. She’s always smart like that.

“Oh baby,” she says. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“What are you talking about? You—”

“I don’t mean with Ben. I just… I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide everything that’s happened from me.”

Peter doesn’t know what to say. “That’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours, either, okay? I’m not mad at you, Petey.”

“Just disappointed,” Peter finishes.

“No,” she says, and his head perks up. “I’m not disappointed, either. I’m proud. So, so proud, baby. And I know Ben would have been, too.”

Peter’s quiet for a second, jaw clenched. “Would he really?” he asks, and his voice comes out hoarse.

“He would. He really, really would,” May says, and Peter nods, a hand reaching up to rub at his eyes. “I just wish you were safe.”

With a breath of laughter, Peter says, “I think the same thing for you.”

He hears May breathe her own laugh on her end of the phone. “I suppose you would,” she says. Her voice changes, becomes a little lighter, as she asks, “How are things over there?”

“I’m at the compound, May,” Peter says, cheering up. “The  _ compound. _ What’s the compound?”

She laughs, saying, “It’s new to you nowadays, too. You’ve stayed there before.”

“I’ve stayed here?” he asks. “That’s insane!” He looks around for a moment, making sure he’s alone before he asks, “Am I, like, an Avenger now or something?!”

“You turned it down,” she says. “A lot has happened in the last year, Petey. A part of me wishes you could leave some of it forgotten.”

“May…”

“I know. You’ll remember; if there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that Tony will find a way. He always does when it comes to you.”

“When it comes to anything,” Peter says, and it’s difficult to keep the worship out of his voice. “I still can’t believe this.” He lowers his voice to a whisper as he says, “Tony Stark!”

More laughter from May’s side. “You’ve done a lot for yourself. I hope that you feel proud of yourself, too.”

“I do… Well, I did. Then I found out I turned down the chance to be an Avenger. What was I thinking?!”

“You were thinking levelly,” she says. “I’m proud of you for that, too. But I trust you to make your own decisions! I’ll support you even if you change your mind.”

“Will you, though?” Peter jokes. “I mean, you sound pretty happy I’m not one.”

“Peter,” she scolds, but he can hear the humor in her voice. 

“I know, I know. Just kidding.” He lets out a breath. “This is a lot. How have you been?”

There’s a smile in her voice as she says, “I’ve been well, baby. We’re doing good.”

“Are we really?”

“Yeah, sweetie.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I know things are difficult, from what you remember. But we end up okay. Okay?”

“It’s hard to even imagine it,” Peter says honestly. 

“I know.”

They stay there for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. 

“Thank you, May,” he says finally. “I hope this all gets fixed soon.”

“It will,” she says. “I’m sure of it. Just… Take this for what it is. Have a little fun. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, a small smile growing on his face. “You’re right. I know it will.”

“Good.” She groans. “I guess I should get back to work, huh?”

Laughing, Peter says, “Yeah, I guess. Go save lives, etcetera.”

She laughs back. “Somebody’s gotta do it. You be good, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good. Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, May.”

They hang up the call, and Peter leans back against the couch Mr. Stark left him at. He sighs, staring down at the phone on his hand. 

Mr. Stark’s phone. 

He wonders what future him would have done with it. What would have been appropriate. 

Then he sighs again and locks it, standing up and stretching. Phone in hand, he steps out of the room, meandering back the way he and Mr. Stark came and the way Mr. Stark left.

After walking down a couple of halls, it opens up into what looks like a living room type of area, fit with a couch, TV, and…

He pulls in a breath, causing the person on the couch to turn back from the game he was playing. 

Mr. Hawkeye’s eyes widen, and he quickly brings up his controller-hand to shield his eyes. 

“Spidey!” he says. “You’re mask-less, bro!” He unshields his eyes to look then shields them again. “And you’re a baby!”

He continues this back and forth of looking and not looking; meanwhile, Peter stares at him, open-mouthed in shock. 

He tries to play it cool, because it’s clear that he’s met this guy before, even if he doesn’t remember it. 

“I’m not that young,” he denies. “I’m twenty.”

Now Mr. Hawkeye’s blatantly staring. 

“False,” he says. “You’re—what, sixteen?”

Peter thinks. He’s a year or so into the future, so. Yeah. Sixteen. He feels himself burning bright red, but he still tries to deny it. 

“I’m not sixteen! Anyway, sorry to flash my face to you. My name’s Peter. I’m not actually ‘Spider-Man?’ I mean, I am, just—”

“What.”

“Look.” Peter shrugs helplessly. “I’m also confused by the whole thing, but Mr. Stark said I lost some of my memory during some fight earlier today.”

“Damn, for real? I’m sorry, man, that has to be rough.”

“It’s okay. So, sorry if this is weird, but I don’t really know you? I mean, I know you—” Great. He’s making it awkward— “but not, uh...personally.”

Mr. Hawkeye nods, saying, “So, you’re meeting the Avengers for the first time, huh?”

Peter nods back. He grins a little. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m trying not to be weird about it, but… It’s really cool.”

“Don’t admit that to anybody else,” he says. “Wow, sorry, but I’m stuck on the fact that you’re a kid. I really thought you were older.” He groans. “Now I owe Natasha twenty-bucks!”

Peter laughs through his heart-attack at the mention of the Black Widow. “Sorry to hear it, man.”

“Nah, not your fault. Well, kinda your fault.” He pats the space on the couch beside him, saying, “Come here, sit. I’m too old to be twisting my back like this.”

Mr. Hawkeye is really funny. 

Peter makes his way to the other end of the couch and, after a second of looking, gestures to the TV, saying, “Hey, so… What are you playing?”

Mr. Hawkeye’s eyes light up. “You don’t know about the Switch!” he says. “Finally, I can beat you at Mario Kart!”

Peter grins. “We’ll see about that.”

This is why, a little less than an hour later, Tony returns from his frustrating yet victorious phone call to hear Clint saying:

“I cannot believe this! It’s muscle-memory, for sure.”

“Peter still beat you?” Tony asks from behind them, and Peter jumps a foot in the air. 

“Mr. Stark!” he says in surprise, and there’s a crunch.

They all look down at the controller Peter’s ripped in half with his hands. 

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I’ll pay for that.”

Tony waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I see you’ve met Clint.” He pulls Peter’s mask out of his pocket, tossing it at Peter. “My bad. I thought you guys were still on that mission.”

Clint turns to him, saying, “It finished early.”

Tony nods, keeping his face neutral. “Happy to hear that’s all wrapped up. You guys get my message?”

“Yeah. Wizards again?”

“Just one. It’s on me. Conference hall in twenty?”

Clint nods seriously. “Sure. I’ll go tell Nat.”

“Works for me.”

Tony reaches over the couch to pull the controller pieces out of Peter’s hands. 

“How you doing?” he asks the kid. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

Peter thinks for a moment. “Yes,” he says eventually. “To both.”

Tony chuckles but gestures an arm to get Peter to follow. 

They walk down the hall to the kitchen area, Tony asking FRIDAY to inform the others about the meeting and Peter trailing behind Tony, looking around the hall and out the windows. 

“So, a meeting, huh?” Peter asks a little less than casually.

Tony holds in his laughter. “Yup. We’re going to try to figure out our wizard situation.”

“Can I—”

“You’re not coming.”

Peter groans. “Ugh, come on. I can help!”

“Nope,” Tony immediately vetoes, kicking open the garbage can to toss in the broken controller. “You’re out of commission right now.”

“How was it talking to that Strange guy?”

Tony throws open the fridge while Peter takes a seat at the bar, and he rummages around for snacks and maybe dinner later. 

“It went well,” he tells Peter. “Well, as well as you can expect from that guy. Strange has a prior engagement, but he said he should be available later today to check you out.”

“Can I join the mission if he fixes me by then?”

“Who said anything about a mission?”

He’s pretty sure Peter wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains. It’s kinda funny, and something Tony will definitely tease him about later. Once things are back to normal. 

“Well, you’re all going to want to stop the wizard who did this to me eventually, right?”

“How do you know it was a wizard?”

“I eavesdropped on you and that nice doctor. Keep up, Mr. Stark, you already knew this.”

Tony can’t help his laughter this time. He tosses sandwich parts onto the counter, choosing the ingredients he knows Peter likes. Then he bumps the fridge shut and opens a cabinet, pulling out a plate. After washing his hands, he sets to making a couple of sandwiches for them.

“So, here’s the plan,” he tells Peter. “I’m going to go talk to the adults; you are going to eat sandwiches and play video games.”

“But Mr. Stark, that’s so boring. You want me to miss my chance to meet the Avengers just because I can’t go on the mission? At least let me sit in the room.”

“No, because you might not know me, but I know you, kid. You’ll find a way to weasel yourself on the mission somehow and then I’ll take the heat when it goes horribly wrong.”

“You don’t know that,” the kid mumbles, but when he looks back, Tony sees that the kid is smirking a little. 

“Knew it,” Tony says, grinning back, and the kid makes a failing effort to hide his laugh.

As he sets a plate in front of Peter, Tony says, “Sorry-not-sorry. It’s for the best, kid.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Hey.” Tony pushes a hand on Peter’s shoulder, offering him a smile. “Maybe later I’ll take you down to the lab. I can show you some of the things you’ve been working on lately.”

Peter’s mouth falls into an open-mouthed grin. “You let me in your lab with you?”

Tony smiles, ignoring the pang of sadness at the question. “Yeah, kid. All the time.”

Tony eats his own sandwich while he walks to the conference room, nervous for the impending meeting, nervous for when Strange will finally get here. Just nervous.

He finishes his sandwich while waiting for the others to get there then spends the time they’re debriefing him on their own mission messaging Pepper about the events of the day. 

Eventually they get to the meat of the meeting, bringing up their old files of the original mission a couple years back. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he got away,” Rogers complains, looking at Tony.

Tony rolls his eyes at the scolding, saying, “It was a different time. If it helps, I do regret it. Will you help or not?”

Rogers rolls his eyes back, saying, “Of course we’re going to help. We like Spider-Man just as much as you. Tell me again what the wizard said when you fought him today.”

“I’ll just show you.” 

He has FRIDAY pull up the footage from his suit earlier in the day, specifically the hefty monologue Mojo gave him before Spider-Man arrived on the scene. 

Overall, it’s nothing more than typical villain stuff: “You’ll rue the day,” “prepare for pain,” etcetera.

“I can’t believe Stark’s getting bested by a guy named ‘Mojo the Great.’” Clint says, and Tony rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not bested yet,” he says. 

“Right,” Rogers confirms. “We’ll get him. Tony, you said this must have been premeditated?”

Tony nods. “There’s a bit too many coincidences going on here for my liking,” he says. When Rogers opens up a hand, Tony explains further about the Queens suits that were broken by another Villain-of-the-week just a couple weeks before, about the oddness of the attack being at Queens and not a flashier place in the city, about the way Mojo went for Spider-Man immediately.

Natasha speaks up then, saying, “It sounds like he’s trying to get to Tony by targeting Spider-Man.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah, probably.” 

He did his best to keep the connection between the Avengers and Spider-Man thin, but it seems society has made the connections between them. He’ll have to make sure Peter is more careful in the future; who knows who may go after him trying to make Tony pay for his past mistakes?

Rogers asks the group, “Alright, so we know that Mojo was targeting Spider-Man specifically. Do we know where to find him?”

There’s silence from the group. 

Tony lets out a long breath, barely managing to keep it from becoming the groan it wants to be. 

He knows where this is going. 

That’s when Steven Strange decides to pop in the room. 

————————

Ah, shit. Peter just broke another “Switch” controller. Hopefully Mr. Stark won’t be too mad about it.

He hides it between the couch cushions when he hears footsteps coming from down the hall, turning off the TV as they get closer. 

He looks up to see Mr. Stark walking in with an unfamiliar man. 

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Stark says as they enter the room. He gestures to the man, saying, “This is Doctor Strange.”

“Mask off,” Mr. Dr. Strange says simply.

Peter pulls it off after the confirming head nod Mr. Stark sends him. 

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Peter greets, and Mr. Dr. Strange responds with something similar but a little ruder.

“I’m going to feel your head now,” Mr. Dr. Strange says, and it’s definitely weird AF, but Peter lets it happen. 

He’s expecting to feel some kind of weird psychic connection when the sorcerer touches his head. Instead, it just feels like nothing. Kinda lame. 

He sends a questioning look to Mr. Stark, who shrugs. Peter shrugs back, closing his eyes and trying to see what Mr. Dr. Strange is seeing in his head. 

Eventually, Mr. Dr. Strange pulls his hand away and says, “Yeah, no. I see the problem.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Mr. Stark urges, “And?”

Mr. Dr. Strange says, “I can’t do anything,” and he straightens up and starts to walk away.

“What?” Mr. Stark and Peter say at the same time.

Mr. Stark continues, “Why not? I thought this was your expertise.”

“It is,” the sorcerer says, turning around to look at Mr. Stark. “But this is…picture a locked chest. That’s where Peter’s memories are. We need a key to open it up.”

“You can’t make a key?”

Mr. Dr. Strange rolls his eyes and says, “I could. The issue is that it’d be like prying it open with a crowbar: it would get the memories out, but it might break some stuff in the progress.”

Mr. Stark pauses for a moment, taking that in. 

Peter looks back and forth between them.

“Great,” Mr. Stark says finally. “So, you’re saying we need to somehow get the wizard guy to open up the chest.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Nodding, Mr. Stark says, “And I don’t take it you can help us find the guy?”

At least Mr. Dr. Strange does seem to think about it for a moment. “Sometime next week, maybe?” he says.

A whole week?!

Mr. Stark objects for him. “That won’t work. We need to figure this out ASAP. Kid has a test coming up.”

“I don’t care about his school tests,” Mr. Dr. Strange says. “You’re lucky I had the time to make it out tonight.”

“Thank you for that,” Peter pipes up, since he doubts Mr. Stark will remember to say it. 

Mr. Dr. Strange looks at him. “No problem,” he says, even though it clearly was a bit of a problem for him. Then: “Stay in school.”

He offers his goodbyes then poofs out of the room, leaving just Peter and Mr. Stark. 

Mr. Stark sits on the couch beside Peter, saying, “Well, looks like you’re coming on the mission after all.”

Mouth falling open, Peter says, “Wait, really? Why?”

“We need bait.”

“…Wait, what?”

————————

Peter gets his chance to meet the Avengers over dinner. Mr. Steve grills up some steaks, and they all get together to eat in a really pretty dining room, with windows that face the falling sun.

“This. Is. Bullshit.” Mr. Clint is saying. He looks at Peter accusingly. “I can’t believe this.” He looks at Ms. Natasha. “I want my twenty-dollars back.”

Sheepishly, Peter offers, “In my defense, it wasn’t really me who did it?”

Ms. Natasha looks smug and unapologetic as she says, “You’re not getting it back.”

Mr. Clint turns to Mr. Steve. “Did you know about this?”

“That Peter is Spider-Man? Yes.”

“Bullshit!”

Turns out future him was playing a prank on Mr. Clint keeping his identity a secret. If it helps his case, present Peter does feel a little guilty over it. 

It makes him a little sad, too. Turns out future him knows these people pretty well. Peter wonders what all he’s missed over the year.

Mr. Stark seems to notice Peter’s wistful mood. Later on in the lab, after the excitement of seeing the space has died down, he puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“You doing okay?” he asks.

Peter shrugs his free shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just a lot, you know? Don’t get me wrong, this is all really amazing! I just… I keep wondering what I’ve forgotten.”

Mr. Stark offers him a small smile. “We’ll figure it out, kid.” He pulls his hand back and turns back to the machine they were looking at.

Letting out a breath, Peter asks, “But what if we don’t?”

Mr. Stark’s eyes shift to the ground, and he’s quiet for a moment. “That’s a possibility,” he admits, and Peter looks away. “But,” Mr. Stark says seriously, and the two make eye-contact. “We’re going to do everything within our capabilities to get your memories back. And if we can’t? We’ll rebuild.”

Peter smiles. “Can only go up from here, huh?”

Mr. Stark grins back. “Exactly,” he says, and that’s the moment where Peter becomes sure that everything will be okay.

————————

So, the plan is to bait their wizard friend into revealing himself by having Peter patrol as Spider-Man throughout Queens. 

Sounds easy enough, right? The kid just has to learn how to use his web-shooters again. He’s the one who invented them; how hard can it be?

“Holy shit,” Mr. Stark laughs. “You are extraordinarily bad at this!”

Peter glares at him from his place on the floor, panting and red-faced. “I’m doing my best!” he defends, though he’s smiling, so he clearly sees the humor in the situation, too.

The gym is wide and open, with obstacles on the ceiling for Peter to whip his webs onto. The place was built for all of the Avengers and their allies, both new and old. The Peter Tony knows would fly around the room with his webs, nearly giving Tony a heart-attack with how fast he would turn, just barely keeping from slamming into walls. 

It seems like web-slinging takes a bit more thought than Tony imagined.

“You’ll get it,” he encourages. “Try again.”

“You just want to laugh at me more,” Peter accuses, though he does get up from the floor. 

“Might be so,” Tony calls back, and he doesn’t miss that Peter does roll his eyes at this. 

Oh, how they grow up so fast. 

Tony convinces May to call Peter out of school the next day, and the kid gets to spend the day swinging throughout Queens, helping old ladies and stopping bike thefts. 

“Wow!” Peter reports on his comm link with Tony. “I did this every day?”

“Nope. School still comes first.”

Peter laughs, saying, “That’s fair.”

The team waits in disguise throughout the area, waiting for Mojo to show his face. They only have to wait a couple of hours before he appears, teleporting onto the scene right behind Peter. 

Steve’s the closest, so he’s the one who warns him through the group comm link about their enemy’s arrival. 

“Got it,” Peter says, and he starts playing his part of distracting Mojo while the rest of the team make their way over, seeking to surround him and cut off his exit-points. 

Tony hears Mojo start monologuing at Peter through the comms.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Mojo says. “Seems I didn’t do my job well enough.”

“Hey, man, what do you even have against me?” Peter asks, coming to a stop on the ground. 

Tony’s jogging towards the area, and he sees Peter spinning around in the distance, searching for their foe, who appears, disappears, and reappears randomly throughout the area. Tony keeps one hand poised over his watch as he makes his way over, ready to get his nano-suit out at a moment’s notice. 

Peter continues, “Just saying: isn’t it a little rude to go after me for no reason?”

Rogers speaks up, asking, “Everybody in position? Clint, what do you see?”

Tony looks up and sees Clint perched on the edge of a nearby building. 

“He’s got something in his hands,” he reports. “I think that’s how he’s teleporting.”

“You get that, Spider-Man?”

“Got it,” Peter says quietly. He continues goading on Mojo, in a way that makes Tony truly proud, even if his quips can be a bit of an eye-roll. 

Eventually, in a move while leaves all of them cheering his success on the comm, Peter manages to snag a web on Mojo’s coat. He yanks, and—

“What the…?” Peter says, as a handful of gadgets fall out of Mojo’s inner-pockets.

“I knew it!” Tony shouts, suiting up and making his way towards the scene. “All magic is just science in a trench coat!”

“I don’t think that’s right,” Clint says at the same time Natasha snorts and Rogers says, “Spider-Man, move in.”

When Mojo stops for a moment to try to collect his fallen gadgets, Peter takes his chance to web away the teleportation device hidden in his hand.

While Mojo is busy whining, Tony sneaks up behind him, throwing him onto the ground and stepping away to let Peter web him to the ground. 

“Wow,” Natasha says as she walks over. She turns to Tony. “This is the guy you were having trouble with?”

Tony will never live this down. 

“Whatever,” he says. “Just help me find whichever of these will restore Peter’s memory.”

Later, while the team’s sitting in the jet on the way back to the compound, one bag full of wizard gadgets in tow, Tony looks around at his kid and his team and considers that he probably should have seen it coming. 

The past can’t be erased or changed, and what has happened between them all cannot be rewritten. They will probably never be the same. 

But like he said to Peter, maybe…just maybe…they can rebuild. Take the foundation of what they had and use it as a guide to becoming a functional team once again. 

Tony throws an arm around Peter’s shoulder, and the kid grins up at him. 

Maybe Tony’s life can go right after all.


End file.
